


There's Something Between Us

by kamomiru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crushes, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Masturbation, No Smut, Non-Explicit Sex, One Shot, Season/Series 01, not actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 01:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6834130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamomiru/pseuds/kamomiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look" Clarke is scared and she hates it, but the possibility of this distance becoming an usual thing is enough to make her talk. "Yesterday was... it was <i>something</i>" she could have lied, but they don't lie to each other "it was, I don't have much experience with this kind of things, near to none actually; but I don't think it's supposed to be like that". They don't lie to each other, but Clarke wouldn't want to be too honest; if she manages to control her nerves, that is. “That good, and funny, and ... Is there supposed to be that kind of connection?" she turns, looking at him in the eyes "is there always that connection?". </p><p>(Or: They have sex on Unity Day. And it makes Clarke realize they could be <i>something</i>. And Bellamy realized it way before it happened)</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Something Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, People! There really isn't much to say about this fanfic. I'm kind of new in the fandom, and I actually feel like I'm not used to move the characters yet, so tell me if you find them OOC in ayway. If you're expecting Smut - actual, descriptive, sexy, real smut - you won't find it, sorry. Just, I miss season 1 Bellarke and this is my way of expessing it: make them end up together, in that moment in time when I started thinking they belonged. I hope you'll like it! If you do and if you don't: let me know anyway. Bye!

Clarke is in the medical bay - if you can actually call the inside of the Dropship like that, really – and she is supposed to be organising the new herbs Jasper and Octavia found in the woods, but she is never been this out of focus in her whole life. 

_Warm, freckled skin on toned muscles; board, strong shoulders above her._

She is sterilizing the few needles they own – again, big words – but she is so distracted she doesn't even register Raven endearing the Dropship door. “Griffin, what are you doing up? Aren’t you hungover like the rest of us?”. Clarke jumps and it actually takes her a couple of seconds to pin what she is talking about; than she realizes: the celebration for Unity Day were still on when she entered than damn tent. “Where did you go by the way? You kind of disappeared right before the fun started”. Raven is mumbling the words, almost whispering them, and she is holding her head between her hands; maybe she will not see the lie for what it is. “Went to sleep as soon as I could: best way of celebrating”. 

_Actually, her muscles are deliciously sore; she hasn't felt this relaxed since they dropped on earth, so. Sleep, sure._

Raven scoffs, putting her head on the desk between them. “You’re no fun, Princess”. And Clarke shudders, because Raven said the words in the same sarcastic tone he uses, the same words. And she knows it is meant to tease her and Bellamy both, but right now she can't take it: if she admits she is thinking about him, she can as well float her dignity. 

_"Damn' sexy sounds you make, Princess", "You're a mess, Princess" and her personal favorite - that makes her hot all over again, and probably always will, since she won't be able to get ride of the memory anytime soon - "You're so wet, Clarke, it's unbelievable"._

“On that note” Jasper jumps in – when did he arrive? Has it been in here the all time? – “Did someone warm our Rebel King’s bed for our oh-so-holy Unity Day celebration?”. Clarke freezes on the spot, shit. Raven chuckles, head still on the table “Surely you mean how many?”. Jasper eyes brightens at that, and he almost claps his hands, jumping lightly on the spot. “That's the thing” he drops with the elbows on the table, and looks at them in the eyes, playfully serious “It's been weeks since the last time anyone has been in the King ‘s chambers. The bets are on: Unity Night could make me a rich man”. 

Raven laughs loudly; groaning immediately after, regretting it. “Idiot move, Jas” she says, cursing her headache one more time “no way anyone remembers anything from last night”. Clarke almost breaths out in relief, only catching herself at the last moment. It was Unity Day night, the first and last unsupervised one, for a bunch of hormonal teenagers: they had their own shit going. “Mhn, mhn” Jasper says, shaking his head decisively “Miller bet his beanie, I have to win even just to see him without it”. Clarke holds the edge of the table tighter than ever, her knuckles going white with pressure. “If Bellamy got any yesterday: I will find out”. Clarke swallows, clears her throat and turns away from them. “How out of it was Miller last night, anyway?”. The distraction works – because apparently there is nothing more entertaining than quiet people when they’re drunk, at least in Jasper’s opinion – and Clarke steps out of the Dropship, breathing hard. 

And the worst thing is that she isn't even worried about people finding out: she really couldn't care less. The memories, on the other hand, are making her go nuts. _The hot roughness and the unexpected gentleness. The thrill of the unknown situation, with the comfortableness of the now familiar dynamics. His voice, his body, his words, his laugh._ She spent the night in Bellamy Blake’s tent, and she can't stop thinking about it. 

  


* * *

  


Despite of what anyone might think, Bellamy Blake has no fucking clue of what he is doing. He was a brother to being with, then a diligent cadet, then the loneliest janitor, then a murderer - and no, he is not ready to deal with the exact extent of that - and suddenly he was a rebel, then a leader. And now he is pretty sure some of the kids are calling him _the Rebel King._

Since the statement makes him shiver, no shame in that, he was more than a bit relived when the Princess stepped in: "We make the rules" might have saved him almost as much as "I need you", or "all you’ve ever done, was to protect your sister", really. So yeah, for one that made of _responsibility_ his life motto, he was awfully glad to give some of that up: He kind of owned Clarke, big time. 

Ruling together was actually easier that what he thought: They apparently came from diametric opposites only when it came to life or death decisions, but they stood on the same ground for all of what is in between. The down-side of the all deal was that apparently, co-leading meant passing a awful lot of time with his royal counterpart; and since they couldn't stand each other, things weren't sun and rainbows all the time. Right? Because, if Bellamy is being completely honest, lately bickering with the Princess is feeling more and more of a way to deal with each other than actually arguing; and they're always kind of smiling to each other while they do it. And she always starts her reports with Octavia's news, and he starts his with the day injuries around camp; so they can both stay calm through the conversation. And Miller pointed out that half of the things they say to each other, they don't actually say it out loud; but, like, with their eyes - do they, really? Because it almost sounds creepy. 

"Bellamy". And he jumps, because apparently he is getting distracted on morning patrol: he would be yelling for hours to anyone else for that, he needs to get his shit together. "Tell me we have a trucker to spare". It hits him, out of nowhere: Her hair almost sparkles under the gentle morning light, her eyes are the lightest shade of blue, her upper lip is thin and has a cute mole on the left side. "Not sure" he says, mostly because he wants to buy himself time, he wants to look at her more "not if you need someone who actually knows what they're doing". She huffs, and puts an hand on her hip. Tiny, white, delicate hand on her wide hip; she has the kind of hips you never want to take your hands away from, the one that looks unbelievably soft and almost welcoming. "I'm not saying I need Finn" and even if he knows she only meant if as their best tracker, he can't help but flinch a little - and neither can she "Dave would do the job, or Mary, or Chris really". She rolls her eyes and her chin lifts up a bit, bringing his attention to her neck; she has the whitest skin: no matter how many days they go without washing, it always looks like porcelain. But it still looks soft, like milk or silk; the skin on her breasts looks even softer, delicate and he can't help but guessing what shade her nipples are, how they contrast with the rest of her coloring. "Mhn" he sighs, but he is actually clearing his throat, and looks up trying to hide his embarrassing blush "Take Dave, he is off patrol, why do we need him anyway?". 

She smiles up at him, because he used the "we" too, probably. Or just because they had been in each other shoes for a while now and he realized he considers her more _a person that he is attracted to_ , than _a person objectively attractive_. He probably would have preferred not finding out any of this, he is pretty sure. "We need seaweed" he gives her best unamused glance, and she answers with an eye-roll - has that shirt always showed that much cleavage? How did he miss it? "I'm sending Monty for knowledge and Jasper with guns, plus Miller for extra protection and Dave as the best trucker we can spare". Bellamy gives her an unimpressed huff, but smiles at her; Clarke gives a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "Back to work" she says, walking away, turning her head to smile at him again. 

He trusts her. And for how shocking it might sound, he actually does: He trusts her enough to make decisions with him, and to be strong enough to shoulder them after; he trust that she care enough for the kids to put her life on the line to protect them; he even trusts her to stay calm when he loses it. And it's a relief, because for the first time in his life he feels on par: like power is finally balancing responsibility, he isn't a son or a cadet but neither a brother or a king. Like, _life is still shit but at least we're in this together_. He wasn't supposed to acknowledge a latent attraction for Clarke: He knows she is attractive, he is not blind; he knows that she is smart, obviously; and she is kind of fun sometimes, and he trusts her, she gets him. There was really no need to throw any sexual feeling to the mix, it is bound to trouble. 

So yeah, things might be going easier, but Bellamy still doesn't know a thing of what he is doing. 

  


* * *

  


Clarke managed to survive the morning without meeting Bellamy, she actually reached the level of sanity where she can think his name without blushing like an idiot. She can almost consider herself satisfied, already exhausted, but satisfied. And obviously Miller enters the Med Bay. “Clarke” her shoulders tense in a second, his tone is off. “What is it?”. Miller breaths out, almost guilty. “Don't worry, no one is dying”. She relaxes immediately, and she gives his a cold look. “But Bellamy might bring someone to suicide”. 

Clarke turns around in time to hide both surprise and deep blush, and lets out a calculated huff. “Really Clarke, he is driving us nuts”. She doesn't turn around, because Miller is a smart boy, way too observant, and might see thought her. “I don’t interfere in Bellamy’s work and he doesn't interfere in mine” she is doing her best to sound annoyed, but she sounds almost too cold to her own ears too “how many problems can he cause coordinating wood chopping anyway?”. She turns around to look at Miller and his expression is already speaking miles: he is suspicious. 

“Look, I don’t know what put him in this furious-beyond-repair mood”. His eyebrows are up, his jaw is set: even his way of speaking is modelled on Bellamy’s. _That man is changing them all._ “But he scared off enough kids that I actually had to put _him_ on chopping duty: he couldn't even coordinate himself, let alone others”. He pauses to look at her, with a gaze that it's so Bellamy it makes her shiver “I can't deal with it”. Clarke huffs and gives up “I’m heading there now”. Miller nods in thanks, and leaves the Dropship. 

  


So, yesterday night fucked him up enough to get Miller to admit defeat: Clarke really doesn't know if she feels better or worst knowing this. She reaches the last border of the camp, where there's always five or six kids chopping wood for fire – or for cabins, maybe. “If the grounders don’t kill us first”, like Bellamy likes to underline. 

Her breath catches as soon as she sees him: shirtless, sweaty, dirty and angry. Clarke is shivering, and _remembering_. In the tent his skin looked darker, and it was impossibly warm under her hands: under the sunlight it shines with sweat, it's dirty with mold and tense on his muscles. In the tent his shoulders had looked enormous above her, big enough to envelope her completely; naked in the middle of the woods, for everyone to see, they were impossibly stronger. The wood didn't stand a chance, and neither did Clarke. 

“Bellamy”. She hoped it would sound cool, normal; but she obviously ended up sounding breathless and tired. His eyes shoot up immediately, and he looks surprised to actually see her for a second; then he recollects himself and gives her his coldest expression. He doesn't even nod, he just stares at her. “Miller says you’re driving people crazy” she doesn't know what she is saying, all she knows is that she can’t hold his gaze “We managed the morning, but we need to get a hold of the meat and the berries before it gets dark”. It's the best way she found to tell him to get his head out off of his ass without either being rude and risk pissing him off even more, or refer to night prior. 

Bellamy is looking at her straight in the eyes, and she feels her blush getting even stronger on her cheeks. His muscles are still jumping, from the fatigue or the anger Clarke doesn't know; his abs are contracting rhythmically, and his jeans are so low on his hips that she can see the waistband of his boxers. 

_Clarke bits his left hip-bone lightly, smiling. “Love those” she says, because telling Bellamy what she loved about his body seemed normal. Bellamy laughs, caressing her hair. “Do you?”. “Yeah” she says, kissing the same point again, but freeing his cock at the same time “they kind of stand out”. Clarke can see an answer starting to form in his mind, but she puts her mouth on him before he can get it out. All she hears is moans._

Clarke swallows and risks looking at his eyes, her face is on fire – God, she is so embarrassed she wants do die. She feels her eyes almost getting wet from embarrassment, before she turns around. “Clarke”. He says her name and she shivers – in that tent he said her name and she came, she laughed, she kissed, she came again. Clarke looks at Bellamy: _we need to talk_ , he doesn't need to say it. “Tonight” she says, more sure than she is been all day “before the night shift gets up”. Bellamy holds her gaze, face expressionless and eyes cold, and then turns around. 

They are all kind of ways of fucked up, and Bellamy has scratches left by her nails on his back. She doesn't even know if she wants the night to arrive soon or never. 

  


* * *

  


Bellamy nods at Miller as he takes Jasper's place in guard duty at the front entrance; they both have rifles on their backs, but useless ones: bullets are going to be a problem - hell, they are a problem already. He is headed to Raven's tent - because even he knows that he will have the bullets when they are ready, the fact won’t stop him from putting some pressure on the mechanic - when he sees Clarke. And she is so beautiful she knocks the breath out of his lungs: Her hair is tied up on top of her head and clearly dirty, she has dried blood under her nails and the bags under her eyes look almost purple. She is stunning – _and he is so fucked_. 

He was so distracted he didn't notice the expression on her face: The Princess is pissed. He was just going to tease her about it, amused she gotten this angry without any help from him, when Spacewalker appears behind her. _Oh, right_. After the number that the idiot pulled on her, it doesn't exactly surprises Bellamy that he can make her angry. Actually, he is more surprised he didn't get his ass beaten yet; Raven doesn't seem like the calm-type-of-girl and he knows for a fact the Princess is fierce. 

Bellamy crosses his arms on his chest, he is going to enjoy this. They are speaking to each other in hushed tones, but their faces are twisted in screams. Bellamy can say that Finn is picking at Clarke’s last nerve: Her cheeks are red from anger, her right foot is basically digging an hole on the grass and her hands won’t stop moving. _Shit_ , her eyes are murderous – and he is so ashamed to even think about it, he is the worst co-leader of all times, but she is so fuckin’ hot like this. 

Bellamy can’t exactly hear them, but he can tell that Clarke is chewing him out. For good, he hopes. Then he says something, Bellamy thinks he reads _I love you_ on his lips, and Clarke freezes. And then freaks out on him: she is in his face in a second, her pointer jamming on his chest like a little hammer, and she is not even screaming but you can see the venom in her words from a distance. Bellamy was utterly amused, impressed even; and then the atmosphere changes. The shift is so subtle that probably no one else would have noticed: Finn’s expression getting harder, his fist tightening, his jaw clenching. Clarke doesn't notice it either, but Bellamy is not worried: The Princess can take care of herself, she doesn't need any knight in the shining armor, and Bellamy wouldn't be the one for the job anyway. 

In fact, it looks like everything will be okay in a minute, Clarke’s finger stopped hammering and she stepped away from the boy. Then Finn grabs her wrist, and Bellamy doesn't like it one bit. He has seen this before: It starts with a wrist grab, that gets tighter; and then a shove, with more hushed screams. It doesn't matter who the guy is, but it always ends with the girl’s eyes pointed on the floor. There is no way he is letting that idiot treat the Princess – Bellamy is scared shittless. He is walking, running towards them in a second. 

“Let me go, Finn”. Clarke voice is firm, but still quieter than Finn’s. Bellamy doesn't even register what he is saying, just that his hold on Clarke gets tighter and his shoulders look bigger; he isn't even that much taller than her, but he suddenly looks intimidating. Clarke's eyes shift on her wrist for a second, “Finn, let go” she repeats; her eyes are still angry but Bellamy can almost see a shade of fear in them. He takes Finn’s wrist immediately. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”. Bellamy is screaming, his hold on Finn’s wrist so strong he lets go of Clarke immediately. He sees his surprise, than even more anger; but he doesn't let him say a word. “What do you think you're doing?”. He twists his wrist, hurting him; he gets closer to him, making his height count; he looks at him from above, and screams. “What are you doing?!”. Bellamy sees it in his eyes: he is feeling small, crushed, scared. Helpless. “I want an answer, Spacewalker!”. That makes him snap out of it, he steps back and looks at Bellamy: Regret in his eyes. 

Bellamy still doesn't let him speak, he punches him straight on the nose, hard enough to make him fall on his ass. “Next time you want to take the upper hand in a fight using such dirty tricks, remember there is always someone bigger and stronger that could use them on you”. Bellamy pauses, and he knows his eyes are screaming murder, because his hands are tingling – he is so fuckin’ angry he can barely stop himself from beating the idiot up more and more. “This time you get away with just that” he points at Finn’s nose “if there is a next time…”. Bellamy’s first clenches, his jaw tightens “let’s just say it's better for you if there isn't a next time”. 

Bellamy turns around still blinded with anger, and Clarke is looking at him. She looks a bit scared, and Bellamy is terrified that it's his fault; but she puts an hand on his shoulder and “let’s get that hand checked out” she says. He gives her a tentative look, she smiles at him. _Thank you_. She doesn't need to say it. 

  


He is in the Dropship, in the part of it they use as a mad bay; Clarke is looking for some moonshine, her back turned. He is sat on the only table they have in there, trying to move his fingers; Clarke steps between his parted knees quietly, washcloth in her hand. Her fingers take his wrist gently, rising his knuckles to her eyes; she pats them with the moonshine kindly and it burns a bit, but it doesn't matter. Bellamy still feels some lingering anger, but Clarke's watery-blue eyes keep glancing up at him worriedly. 

“I’m sorry”. Bellamy’s voice sounds even deeper from all the shouting, Clarke answers him with a questioning look. “If I scared you with all…”. He can’t bring himself to finish that sentence, he caused a scene in the middle of the camp, embarrassing her and himself: If she isn't scared, she sure as hell is pissed. “I probably overreacted” he breaths in, feeling the anger coming up again “I just, people used to do that to mum all the time”. Bellamy is looking at the floor, because he can't exactly hold her gaze right now. “Going on to her like that, making her feel helpless, like she was nothing”. He dares to look up, trying a tight smile “I flipped”. 

Bellamy keeps is head bowed, he sees Clarke's hand moving on his scarred one and holding his wrist with her gentle fingers, palm against his own. He sees her other hand gripping his knee and his head snaps up, and she is close. She is so close the only thing he can see clearly are her eyes, they are clear like a cloudless sky and full of emotions: Honesty, understanding, gratitude. She keeps them in his own eyes as she speaks, "Thank you".

She goes back to taking care of his hand immediately, but the air around them is still full of that weird heaviness that links them. And what he is feeling for her is way too much to process, way too complicated and kind of out of place - Bellamy is not ready to face the deepness of it all. So he makes his gaze travel away from her face, and he makes the final mistake. From his position, he has an even higher view than usual: He can see her breasts from above, right inside her shirt - and his face gets hotter. He tries to look away immediately, but his gaze inevitably goes back there: He can see the hem of her bra on the side of her breast, and even the piece of cloth between the cups; he can see that the bra is a bit tight on them, almost squeezing the upper part out of the cups. Bellamy can feel his heart speeding up, his palm starting to sweat; this has to stop _right now_ , or he won't be able to hide a problem way more awkward than a blush. Clarke stretches to take another piece of cloth at the other side of the table, bouncing on the balls of her feet when she reaches it. Her boobs bounce too. 

Bellamy gets off of the table and outside of the Dropship before she can even blink: _It was getting out of hand._

  


* * *

  


When the air is already getting colder and the Sun starts to hide behind the Mountain, painting the sky of many shades of oranges and pinks, Clarke calmed down enough to be thinking about the beauty of the twilight. She knows why: Thinking about the night before still makes her super embarrassed and kind of freaked out, but now that Bellamy is (kind of, maybe later) on her side – because no matter what shit is going on between them: if they can talk about it, they can figure it out – she can start worrying about real problems. 

She is on the little path right behind the Dropship, checking some weird looking plants that started to grow there: They can’t risk someone eating them if they don't know what exactly they are, if they're actually edible. She is ready to shout for Monty - she knows he is busy with moonshine, but categorizing plants is apparently beyond her knowledge - when some girls’ voices attract her attention. 

“I miss Bellamy”. Clarke freezes on the spot, _this is a bit too close to home_. “Yeah” another answer, “me too” another one adds. _Three_ girls are missing Bellamy, apparently, and Clarke feels more and more like an idiot. "He hasn't been with any of you either?" one of them asks, the redhead. "Not lately, unfortunately" the tall one, "Not since the three-way for me" the other one. They are all thinner than her, two of them taller too; the redhead has an amazing pair of green eyes, the taller has legs that go for miles, and the last one has the fullest lips ever. They are all admittedly good looking, very good looking. Ad she hates it, but the thought of Bellamy touching them - _his rough, big hands on their thin waists; his soft lips on their slim necks_ \- makes her jealous. She really hates it. 

"I miss his hands", "his mouth too" and the last one, the most shameless one "don't forget his cock". Clarke is starting to get nauseous: Every one of their sentences is linked to at least one memory of the night before, she officially joined the Bellamy's Girls Club. "He is always so quiet" Redhead says, dreamingly; Clarke frowns. "He doesn't utter a word, it makes it kind of intense" Tall One adds. And yeah, not exactly. 

_"Oh Princess, I'm going to make you scream", "Tell me what you want" and "Do you like it?". And "the best boobs ever, I swear" groping them softly; "This is how your pussy tastes, Princess" kissing her deeply "sweet, isn't it?". "Clarke" choked off voice, skin shining with sweat "I swear to God, this really doesn't feel like you're first blowjob" a loud moan "shit that's a talent, and a damn amazing one"._

Bellamy wasn't silent at all, he was actually kind of a dirty talker. "And he is always so serious" Lips says, and Clarke gets even more confused "I don't think I have ever seen him smile during...". And this time Lips does look kind of unsettled, maybe even sad - And Clarke starts questioning if she really slept with the same Bellamy those girls did. 

_Bellamy's laugh is so loud, it kind of startles her. "Stop it, idiot" she tries to hide her face with her hands, rolling on her stomach "you can't laugh at me right after you fucked me!". Bellamy laughs even louder, Clarke hits him softly on the naked arm and leaves her hand there. "Come on, Princess" he turns on the side, facing her, still laughing softly "your first after sex words have been 'shit, I can't believe multiple orgasms really existed'". And he can't stop himself, his laud laugh - that Clarke is sure has never been heard before tonight - fills the tent again. "It's hilarious". And Clarke doesn't even get what of it he finds so extremely funny, but he looks - still sweaty, completely naked, smiling like he doesn't have a care in the world - amazing. They laugh together, between kisses._

And than there was more laughs - and more orgasms too. Clarke doesn't know what to think anymore, but she suddenly doesn't feel jealous anymore. "Yeah" the Redhead says, looking a bit sad too. The Tall One sighs "I do miss him" she says quietly, like she is revealing a secret, "but he is always so distant" and there's no mistaking it, that's sadness in her voice "I know it's just sex, he always makes sure we know it well enough; but sometimes I wouldn't mind a bit more intimacy". She pauses and all three of them are looking down, "even just being looked in the eyes, it would be nice".

Then the Redhead points out how good he is with his tongue, and they start talking about his sexual talent again, but Clarke doesn't need to listen to them anymore: They may all have slept with the same guy, but she is the only one who got to pass the night with _Bellamy_. The real, for some reason open and honest, Bellamy: He never took his eyes off of hers. 

_"I want you inside me". He is above her, his hips between her spread legs and his elbows on the sides of her head. His eyes unmoving. "Is it your first time?". She knew he would ask, but her blush gets deeper anyway. "No" is all she says. He doesn't even blink, and bows his head to kiss her lips softly. "Okay" he says, smiling "you want to stop, you tell me right away". There's no need to worry; but he wants her to like it, he wants her to enjoy every moment of it. "If what we did till now is of any indication" she says, smiling like an idiot and caressing his sweaty curls "I think I will like anything you'll do to me". His smile grows bigger and he kisses her sweetly, biting and liking her lips. He enters her slowly, his eyes boring into her soul._

  


* * *

  


One of the first thing they started to miss while on the ground, even before than their parents and way before electricity, was water. On earth you couldn't pass a day without getting yourself dirty - grass, leaves, sweat, blood, moonshine - from head to toe, every damn day; but going to the little creek right outside camp, the safer one, every single day was impossible. So, even if it was extremely dangerous and kind of reckless, weekly group visit were unavoidable: Well organized, with at least two armed "guards" every six people, attentively chosen groups - not too many firecrackers in one group, at least a trusted person in each of them, at least one person with basic medical knowledge, at least one strong enough to carry another person in case of need. Well organized, prepared group baths. 

But obviously, earth taught them that soon enough, you really never know what could happen. So Bellamy shouldn't be as surprised as he is when Clarke and Octavia, upper body covered in many different stains of blood and the rest of them dirty with grass, demand for a way to clean themselves. "Bell, I can't even smell myself, and it's not like I can stop breathing!" Octavia is already yelling, not even giving him the time to _actually_ refuse their request. Not that he needs to, the expression on his face seems to be clear enough: They claerly don't have the time, the strength, or the men for an improvised bathing group. "Bellamy" Clarke crosses her arms under her breasts, looking at him with a raised eyebrow "you can't possibly expect for us to go on, with this level of filth on us, for more than twenty-four hours: it's insane". Bellamy is ready to vocalize his refusal; but Clarke gives him her _think before you speak_ look. 

The next bath group is scheduled for tomorrow before lunch: Now it's ten in the morning, Clarke will probably have patients at least all morning, and Octavia has both meat duty and afternoon shift in the Med Bay. Working all day in their condition would be undeniably impractical. "Just the two of you, you have ten minutes to prepare anything you need, and for God’s sake try not to attract too much attention" he sighs heavily, because it still feels like a bad idea "we don't need anyone to start talking about special treatments around camp, we have enough problems as it is".

Octavia smiles happily, Clarke simply nods satisfied; Miller will never agree to leave the camp a second time in one day, and there's no way he is letting Jasper anywhere near his sister while she isn't wearing clothes: He will have to go guard them himself, he has the feeling that this will prove to be an even worse idea than what he thought. 

  


The creek, without the usual constant chatter from the kids, is almost heavenly silent; Bellamy is turned around, checking the tree line, praying that things will go smoothly for once. He hears the water splashing behind him; and his sister may be completely naked ten feet behind his back, but Clarke is too: and that is something he really shouldn't think about, since he is apparently turning into a perv. 

"Shit, what do you do when you have blood under your nails? Of the feet". Clarke's answer is a laud laugh; and Octavia groans, exasperated. "I can't believe you actually choose to learn this shit" she goes on, groaning at every other word "like, there isn't a day where you aren't covered in blood, puke, snot or all of the above!". Bellamy has to suppress a laugh himself this time, and Clarke is still giggling softly. "It's not so bad" her tone is soft, and kind of amused "I always concentrated on the helping people part, trying to forget the tiring and almost always disgusting part". Octavia snorts this time, rather loudly and completely unladylike - Bellamy doesn't feel too proud of that, he could have definitely done a better work with her manners. But his manners could use some work too, in a certain Princess' opinion, so. "You're not much different" Clarke says, her voice even softer than before "You choose to work in the Med Bay too, and without a proper preparation for it, even". He doesn't hear the water for a couple of seconds, and he almost turns around, but then he hears his sister's voice again. "I just want to be useful, I have to do the best I can" she sounds surprised of her own words, and maybe a bit embarrassed too - and Bellamy does feel incredibly proud now. "Exactly" says Clarke, and Bellamy can hear the smile in her voice "You feel like you _have to_ do your best". The praise is implicit, but Clarke's flattering tone is undeniable; it is so much, that Bellamy feels himself blushing: his sister's face must be on fire. 

Lost in the moment, Bellamy feels himself jump when a loud roar erupts from the woods behind his back; behind the girls. He turns around instinctively, his eyes immediately on the tree line: There's an animal, something with the teeth of a wolf, but big as a bear; It doesn't look too happy to see them. "Bell" her sister’s whisper startles him, she sounds so fucking scared. "Don't move" he hopes he sounds reassuring, that she can't feel the fear in his voice "don't make a sound". The beast takes a step toward the water and he hears the girls taking a breath in, he will give his life for it not to be their last one. No, they will get out of here; His _sister_ and _Clarke_ : He won't lose either of them. He moves slowly, shifting the rifle to shoot - and he is so glad Raven managed at least an handful of bullets. "Bellamy" his eyes moves to Clarke's immediately - bigger than ever, filled with fear and shining lightly - she nods: _Shoot_ , is their only chance. He fires the first shot and the beast starts running in the water, so close to the girls that he doesn't know how many times he fires the gun: He knows that when the beast falls in the now bloody water, dead, his heart is thumping so hard it could burst out of his chest. 

He is still gripping the rifle tightly, knuckles getting white with pressure, when he feels his sister's arms around him; and he couldn't care less that she is naked and wet, he holds her with all his strength. "Well" Clarke's voice makes him jump again, adrenaline still very present in his system "that went surprisingly well". Her tone is deliberately light, studied to alleviate the pressure - even as scared as she must be, she still worries to quiet others' fears. Bellamy laughs, and it feels absolutely forced, but it does the job: The air around them already feels less heavy. Octavia's grip softens and she steps back, getting out of the water with a relived breath. 

It hits him in that moment. Adrenaline is still pumping in his veins, fear is still crouching his chest; the creek's water is weirdly pinkish, and the forest around them even more quiet than before: Clarke Griffin is standing completely naked in front of him. 

His eyes travel all over her wet body before he even blushes. Her hair looks almost golden and her skin looks white and creamy, shining with little drops of water all over it. Her collarbones stand out deliciously, right above her beautifully round, creamy white breasts; contrasting with her deliciously pink nipples. Everything of her body looks soft - and white, and dreamy - from her tights to her belly, from her neck to her calves. When he notices that the patch of hair between her legs is golden too, he snaps out of it. 

He looks up at her eyes without meaning to, his face is on fire and he feels rightfully guilty - he did spent, at least the last minute, shamelessly ogling her. Her eyes are particularly widened, she is biting her lower lip shyly, and when their eyes meet, her blush reaches almost her collarbones. They both look away almost immediately, and Bellamy turns around. 

The blush doesn't disappear from their cheeks for the all walk back to camp, The mental image of Clarke's naked body will probably never leave Bellamy's mind. 

  


* * *

  


Clarke knows that she spent basically all day trying not to think about Bellamy, and failing miserably; but something about all this situation sill unsettles her on a deeper level. She is, almost at twilight, relatively at ease with the thought of Bellamy; with the physical memory of the night before, that is. Hearing his name makes her shiver, thinking it too; the soreness of her body made her attention drop, lost in memories, more than once; and seeing him, even just a glimpse of his hair or a shirt similar to his own on someone else's chest, makes her heart jump in her throat. But she is okay with all of that, no problem. 

What is giving her the chills - scaring the shit out of her, honestly - is a sleeping feeling, just a bit more than a sensation, in the pit of her stomach. She doesn't know how to describe it: It makes her stomach tighten and it knocks the breath out of her lungs, it makes her palms sweat and sets a little smile on her lips; it feels a bit like sadness and a lot like lust, it's something that she really can't explain. All she knows, is _Bellamy_ : because, whatever the fuck it is, it starts and ends with Bellamy. 

"There's nothing fair in this!". The scream, since she was lost psychoanalyzing herself, startles her. She turns toward the scream and sees Bellamy - heart in the throat, chills down her spine and blush on her cheeks all together - standing in from of the Screamer. He is a troublemaker: One of the kids who stood with Murphy when he fought Wells, that pushed to hang him just weeks later, that liked questioning her and Bellamy's authority regularly. Clarke isn't surprised at all that the guy - whose name she actually couldn't remember - is causing problem, but she is worried about how Bellamy could react. Since he is not in the best of moods today, _at all_. 

"Not fair". It doesn't even sound like a question, Bellamy's tone is glacial and the muscles of his arms are already flexing, crossed on his chest. "I spent three hours, under the sun, chopping wood! And now I have to sort berries too?! While they spent all day comfortably sat by the fire doing flower crowns?". Clarke sees the vein on Bellamy's temple too clearly, his jaw clenching and his nostrils flaring; she sees him breath in, opening his mouth. And she puts her hand on his shoulder - she is so glad she makes on time, before he started screaming at the guy, that she almost smiles. 

"Sorting medical herbs from eating one is flower crowns?" She asks, interrupting Bellamy before he even started speaking. "That's not the point! I did three hours of chopping duty, while they sat on their butts, and I'm still working!" Clarke rises an eyebrow, and Bellamy's muscle jumps under her hand - reminding her that she still has her hand on his shoulder, she leaves it there. "You are, as you just said, sat on your butt" she sees him getting more and more fired up, his fist clenching; and it's not good at all, Bellay could feed on his anger and things will escalate in a second: She has to put a stop to this, now. 

"You're tired, right? That's the problem". Her gaze hardens, waiting for him to nod; he does. "Three hours you said, and you've been sitting after". She sees him open his mouth to answer her, but she doesn't give her the time. "This one" she points at Bellamy with her thumb, and Bellamy's eyebrows go up in confusion "chopped wood all morning". She waits, so her words sink in; Bellamy's eyes widens, he seems genuinely surprised she is using his as an example. "From seven to midday; and then he patrolled all tents, one by one, after that". Bellamy is blushing; and Clarke would be smiling, if she wasn't busy chewing someone out. "He was helping moving the herbs to the Mad Bay, those heavy boxes to the other side of the camp, when you decided that you were too tired to work, right?". Clarke looks at him, one hand on her hip and eyebrows in a deep scowl - doing her best to ignore how adorable Bellamy looks when he is embarrassed. The guy looks angry, but speechless too; he bows his head and turns around, back to the berries. 

Clarke squeezes Bellamy's shoulder, before she takes her hand away. His eyes look enormous, his face is slightly pinkish and he is biting the inside of his cheek; he looks her in the eyes, and nods: _Thank you_. She nods, too: _no problem_. "Tonight" she says, already walking away "before the night shift". 

Clarke never thought about Bellamy, because she didn't have to. Their relationship - from enemies, to companions, to allies and now _partners_ \- changed smoothly, almost imperceptibly. The feeling that she can't explain, the one that starts and ends with Bellamy, was like that too: She doesn't know when she started feeling it, and she doesn't know when it got this big. But she won't think about Bellamy and she won't name the feeling; because the night in his tent has been something, it opened her eyes, and she is scared as fuck. 

  


* * *

  


It's a soft noise, so soft he is almost sure he is imagining it, that makes him stop on his tracks; but then he hears it again and no, whatever it is, it's very much real. Bellamy just sent to the wall the guys for the night guard, everyone else is asleep, and he is kind of checking the tents before he goes to bed himself: He didn't even recognize where he was before he heard the noise again. 

It's a whimper, just a bit lauder than a breath; but it's clear enough in the unusual silence of the camp. It hears it again and this time it sounds more like a muffled moan: It's probably nothing he should worry about, but he can't help it. He follows the sound - now alternating between deep breaths and soft moans - and he finds himself outside Clarke's tent. The soft light of the make-shift candle inside the tent is on, and she went to bed not much before - so he is just going to call her name, just to ask her if she is okay, but the moaning suddenly gets louder.

The closing flap of the tent is a bit misplaced, and his eyes go to the inside of the tent before he can stop himself: The image he sees freezes him on the spot. The first thing Bellamy sees is Clarke's leg, deliriously bare, with her knee bent; the other is hidden under the blanket, and they're spread. The blanket hides her till her waist, her breasts are bared to his eyes too; and one hand is palming the left one, pinching her own nipple lightly. The other hand is under the blanket, thankfully - or unfortunately, God - hidden from view; but her face is the best. It looks so different from usual, and it's so fucking beautiful, it startles him: Her eyes are closed and her eyelashes brush her high colored cheeks, her lips are parted and the soft moans - the ones that brought him here, for God’s sake - escaping them. He turns around as soon as his legs start working, and he feels guilty immediately. 

He feels guilty because that's no excuse for him invading her privacy like that, even if it was accidental and he really didn't know, he still saw something that wasn't meant for him to see. But it got him thinking too, thinking about the girl he ruled with - someone he deeply trusted and relied on, his partner - in another light. He dealt with the fact that she is sexually attractive; it still disturbs him how distracting it is, so much that it made him lose his train of thoughts in the middle of conversation more than once, but it's manageable. But he never saw her so, so vulnerable; honest and open, lost in her moment of pleasure. It made Bellamy think about the girl with honest eyes and healing hands, the girl that considers his sister rather highly and tells her too, the girl that loved too much a guy who didn't deserve it and regretted it too soon. The strong girl that stands by his side, loyal, kind, ready to do whatever it takes; but still just a girl. A beautiful, sexy girl and he feels something for her: really, she is so awesome it's impossible not to. He has feelings for her, he can't deny it anymore. He has feeling for her, and damn strong ones. 

  


* * *

  


Camp clears out uncommonly early, the result of yesterday Unity Day wild night craziness and a whole day of work catching up with them; Clarke and Bellamy didn't decide a place, but they meet effortlessly in front of the main fireplace when the night guards take place on the wall. 

Bellamy sits near the fire, elbows on his knees and fingers intertwined, head bowed; Clarke stretches her legs in front of herself, slightly reclined with her hands behind herself, her head up and eyes closed. It's not an uncommon sight, they usually give each other the summary of the just passed day and plan the upcoming one in that exact place; the air around them, anyway, is way different than usual. 

  


"So" Clarke is the first to speak, but she still doesn't know what to say; "so" Bellamy echoes, and it's really not much help. They're embarrassed, kind of scared, distant: They can't stand it. 

"Look" Clarke is scared and she hates it, but the possibility of this distance becoming an usual thing is enough to make her talk. "Yesterday was... it was _something_ " she could have lied, but they don't lie to each other "it was, I don't have much experience with this kind of things, near to none actually; but I don't think it's supposed to be like that". They don't lie to each other, but Clarke wouldn't want to be too honest; if she manages to control her nerves, that is. “That good, and funny, and ... Is there supposed to be that kind of connection?" she turns, looking at him in the eyes "is there always that connection?". 

Clarke is asking him a question, and Bellamy can only stare at her: she felt it, too. "You felt a connection?" Bellamy has to make sure, because this could go really bad. "Yeah" she says, and she looks even more embarrassed and even more uncomfortable "I didn't expect it, bad it kind of freaked me out all day too, but I felt it. You didn't?". And this may be new to her, but it isn't for him: He is used to feeling the connection between them, she apparently acknowledged only today. But it's there and he won't lie, honesty is a _thing_ for them. "I always do" he says, still looking in each other’s eyes "and only with you". 

"So" Clarke breaths in, relived but still tense "the connection is there, but ...". She stops, because she didn't admit it to herself yet and she doesn't know if she can do it with Bellamy; but that it strikes her. "You said always" she gets closer to him, without even registering to "so it's like, like feelings?". Bellamy smirks, ready to make fun of her; and she could puch him, but she is smiling. "Come on, Bellamy: you know what I mean". 

Bellamy laughs, because she is blushing, and she is fidgety, and it might be new, and she can't even say it: but it's mutual. "Yes, princess" he says, he is going to tease her soo much "I have feelings for you". Her eyes widens immediately, her blush deepens, her lips part lightly. "You do" she whispers, and it half sounds like a question and half like she didn't mean to say it. Bellamy laughs softly, getting closer to her, bumping their shoulders together. "Do you?". He is pretty sure of her answer, judging her reactions, but he is sill nervous. 

Clarke gulps and looks up at him from under her lashes, her heart in her throat. "Yes" she chokes out, closing her eyes. Clarke feels Bellamy smile on her lips, as he kisses her. And she feels all of it: The twist in the stomach, the fear, the lust, and the connection, and Bellamy. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy. She hears her own laugh before she feels it, and then his laugh too; because all of this is ridiculous, it shouldn't even be possible. Clarke takes Bellamy's face in her hands and looks at him in the eyes - and hell, if his lips aren't distracting, all shining and bitten red. 

"What are we doing?". She asks, and Bellamy can only smile at her because of course she is worrying. "Making out" he answers her, and she punches him lightly on the arm, still laughing. "You know what I mean" she says, and he does. What are we doing when our people are dying? What are we doing when there's Grounders out there? What are we doing when we could die tomorrow? 

Bellamy looks at Clarke in the eyes, foreheads connected and "we'll figure something out" he says. Clarke smiles brightly and "we'll figure something out" she echoes. They kiss again and yeah, they will. 


End file.
